


Symptoms Of The Culture

by alienharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Louis, Competition, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Top Harry, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienharry/pseuds/alienharry
Summary: Michael's still alive, but his health bar is basically empty. He doesn't have much longer before he's gone. "So I have to stay alive now?" Harry asks.All of his brothers in the hall shout "Yes" at once. And then Michael's icon turns grey in the corner.Liam yells, "Get back to base!" And Harry starts running.He doesn't even make it five steps when The Rogue steps in front of him and decapitates him before Harry realizes what's happening. The moment he hits the ground, a tinny voice is ringing out, "Rest in fucking peace, prick," and Harry's eyes widen in shock.He turns to Niall, jaw dropped and asks in bewilderment, "Did you hear that?""Don't fucking talk to me, Haz," Niall snaps. He stand ups and approaches the door to his room. "All you had to do was stay on the base."-Harry's fraternity has become obsessed with the newest online game, and they'd like to think they're getting pretty good at it. Only, they keep getting killed byThe Rogue, an online player who has no connection to the Frat, but seems to have a vendetta against them.





	Symptoms Of The Culture

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Sit Next To Me_ by Foster the People
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my amazing betas [Statementlou](http://statementlou.tumblr.com) and [Sierra](http://niallerisababe.tumblr.com) for helping me fine tune this fic.

In media, people in fraternities are seen as smug arseholes. They’re seen as people who can get anything and everything they want, who have no modesty, no sense of gratitude for the things that fall in their laps. 

Harry doesn’t think that applies to him. He’s been in his fraternity for four years - he’s the vice president, for goodness sake. He’s been told he oozes charm and has a face that could get him into any club, no matter how exclusive, but he still feels like he’s always chasing something, always trying to prove himself. 

He met Louis three years ago, quite literally bumping into him at first year orientation. Even though it was all Harry’s fault, Louis was apologetic, avoiding eye contact as a pretty pink blush climbed up his neck. 

Instantly, Harry was hooked. 

It’s been a while since that happened, but Harry still feels butterflies in his stomach when he thinks of Louis. He’s absolutely  _ crazy _ about him, making an attempt to ask him out every time he gets the chance, but Louis won’t give him the time of day. They’ve had a few shared classes over the years, and they’ve run into each other in study groups, in the library, or just walking across campus, and Harry’s absolutely fascinated with him. He’s so soft, so quiet, but whenever Harry manages to pull him into a conversation, his genuine sense of humor and a hint of mischief in his eyes shine through. 

It drives Harry insane. 

This year, they have a Sexuality Study class together, and while Harry considers himself a back row kind of student, he chose a seat in the middle of the classroom for the sole reason of getting to sit next to Louis. 

Every morning, 7:56 on the dot, Louis falls into the seat next to Harry, sleep rumpled but with a soft smile. He’s always nice, and though he doesn’t say much - sometimes nothing at all - he always hears Harry out, always lets Harry try to pull him into a conversation. It works every once in a while, but even if he doesn’t engage with Harry, Louis still listens as Harry rambles.

He lets Harry copy his notes every day because Harry’s eyesight is shit, but he doesn’t like wearing his glasses. He offers pencils when Harry forgets his. He helps with homework and always answers Harry’s questions, but he never initiates conversation. And every time Harry tries to ask him out - even platonically a few times - Louis turns a pretty shade of pink then politely declines. 

He’s an enigma that Harry loves trying to figure out. 

↠↞

The best part of being in a fraternity, Harry thinks, is having an entire house to claim as his own. Sure, he lives with twenty-four other guys, but they’re all usually out doing their own extracurriculars or hiding in their rooms, so it never feels crowded. 

Back in the first few weeks of his first year, when he was living in a dorm with Liam, he’d only had his desk, the common room, and the library to do his work. In the house, he has quite a few places, as well as the on-campus library and cafeteria, and he likes switching from one to another to get a new perspective on his work in a new environment. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen counter doing his statistics work when Niall and Liam come running into the room. Niall’s going a bit too fast and nearly crashes into the counter, but neither he nor Liam stop to make a comment or a joke about it, both clearly in a rush. 

They’re both deep in the cupboards and fridge, moving quickly and loading their arms with food and drinks. It’s a bit confusing, and neither of them even attempt to say hello to Harry. 

“Don’t forget the beer!” Liam yells, his voice echoing around the room. 

Niall laughs, holding up the six pack he’d grabbed from the bottom shelf of the fridge. “You do know who you’re talking to, right?” Harry laughs alongside him, but still, neither of them even glance in his direction. 

In fact, the only reason they end up acknowledging him in the first place is because Liam accidentally shoves into Harry when he turns too quickly. “Sorry, Haz,” he apologizes, already making his way out of the room. “In a rush.” 

Before Harry can even say anything, Liam and Niall are disappearing out of the room, their footsteps slamming harshly against the hardwood of the stairs. It’s not even a solid minute later when the sound of shouting comes floating down the stairs and through the kitchen. Harry follows curiously, only to see seven of his frat brothers on their laptops, sitting in the hallway in front of the doors to their rooms. They’re all yelling at each other, and a bag of chips goes flying past Harry’s head. Michael catches the snack with his left hand and opens it without taking his right hand off his keyboard. 

Overall, it’s a chaotic mess. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, hoping there’s a logical explanation for the aggression they’re all displaying. Even Mitch and Shawn, the quieter and kinder of the lot of them, are shouting some nasty things. 

“ _ Soulrealm _ ,” Niall says without looking up from his laptop.

“ _ Soulrealm _ ?” Harry repeats. Niall nods but doesn’t look up or give any other explanation. “What’s  _ Soulrealm _ ?”

“It’s a game.” Liam waves his hand, a crinkle in his brow as he focuses on his laptop. “Hard to explain.”

“Yeah, Haz.” Niall’s voice is clipped, and Harry suddenly feels like he shouldn’t have come upstairs, should’ve just waited until they all calm down. “We’re kind of in the middle of it. I can explain it to you later?” 

Though there’s an offer in there, Harry’s not sure if he wants to take it. There’s a ruthlessness to all of them Harry doesn’t think he possesses. 

“Or he can just log on and teach himself,” Grimmy says offhandedly. He’s the first of the lot to actually look at Harry. 

“I’ve got homework,” Harry says, but Niall only shrugs. “Can you teach me tonight?”

“Yeah, sure,” Niall agrees. “It cuts off at ten, so I’ll -  _ Jesus,  _ Michael. Let me know next time there’s a witch behind me, will you? Nearly got meself out for the fucking day.”

Harry feels a bit useless standing around as the two shout at each other for a few moments. When Niall doesn’t address him again, Harry asks, “I’ll see you at ten?” 

“Yes, Haz,” Niall groans. “Now go. You almost got me killed.”

“I thought that was Michael.”

“ _ Haz _ ,” Niall shouts. “Go!”

Harry laughs, but disappears downstairs again to get started on his work. He’ll leave them to their game, and hopefully tomorrow he’ll be able to join. 

Just, maybe with a little less hostility than the rest of them. 

↠↞

Harry’s in his seat when Louis gets in at 7:56 am, as always.

“Good morning, Louis,” Harry greets. Louis smiles at Harry as he pulls out his and sets it atop his books, but doesn’t say anything, just nods. Harry takes a breath and continues, “So, apparently there’s this new game everyone’s playing. It’s called  _ ‘Soulrealm _ .’ Have you heard of it?” 

Louis shakes his head. He’s looking at Harry though, so Harry assumes he’s not being a bother, and continues, “My frat brothers are addicted already, so I figured I’d give it a try tonight.” 

“You like video games?” Louis asks. 

It’s not that Louis never talks or that he always ignores Harry, but when he shows an active interest in what Harry’s saying, when he asks questions - or replies at all, even - Harry has to try to to hide his surprise. 

Harry shrugs, willing himself not to smile too widely at Louis’ question. “I like hanging out with my brothers. And the game isn’t too bad. It has servers that run at different times, and the one for our uni only runs from five to ten, so I figure if it’s bad, I only have to struggle through it for a few hours.” 

“But what if it’s really good?” Louis wonders. He takes his seat, but keeps looking at Harry. “Then you’d be forced to quit just as you’re finally getting into it.” 

Harry’s voice drops a bit, and he does his best to look serious. “I’ll just have to swallow my anger and wait until tomorrow to play.”

“You’re so brave.” 

Though his face is blank, Harry can hear the humor is in his voice and smiles. He likes Louis so much. 

“Well, Niall explained the game to me yesterday,” Harry says, deciding to try and ask Louis out for the third time this month, “so I’m going to join my brothers’ tribe this evening. Would you want to join me?”

Louis’ lips curve into a small, timid smile. His cheeks are a bit pink, and he shakes his head. “I’m alright, thank you.” 

Harry bites his lip. He and Louis get along well, even have good chemistry, but Louis never gives him a chance. “Well if you change your mind, you know where I live.” 

Louis hums, and Harry goes to say something else, anything else, to keep the conversation going, but the door in the front of the room opens and the professor walks in. The entire room goes quiet, and Louis turns away from Harry. 

Neither of them bring up hanging out again. 

↠↞

Later that night, Harry finds himself sitting on his bed, computer atop his crossed legs, with seven of his brothers lounging around his room. There are wrappers everywhere, and he knows he’s going to have a lot of cleaning to do when the servers turn off. Niall’s on the bed with him, but he’s mostly there just in case Harry gets close to death, so he can take the computer and save Harry’s character. 

It’ll probably need to happen more than once. 

The very moment the servers go up, everyone gets to playing, faces set tensely, minds completely invested in the game. Harry’s stuck on his own, figuring all of the controls out. Niall took an hour explaining everything the night before, but Harry’s mind is not exactly a steel vault, and a lot of Niall’s words have been erased by a day of classes and distractions. 

When Harry feels all right in his movement - not confident, but still optimistic - he starts to venture off their home base and towards the forest where the rest of his brothers made their way to. On his way, he tries fighting some wandering undead creatures and actually manages to kill them. It’s more because he’s on an extremely low level than Harry being good, but he’ll take what he can get. 

The truth of the matter is that Harry is quite awful at the game. His movement is slow, he doesn’t know how to use anything other than a sword, and he’s not entirely sure of the purpose of the game. 

In fact, his brothers keep having to save him from dying at the hands of other players.

“Haz.” Liam’s been giggling since the first time Harry almost drowned, and it’s only gotten worse with how often he’s needed saving. “I’m worried about you, mate.” 

“I’ll get the hang of it, I promise.” 

“Will you?” It just so happens that as Liam asks, Harry’s character falls into a small hole that’s been dug out for resources. Liam only laughs harder at this. “You’re exceptionally bad, like. I’ve never seen anyone so terrible.” 

It’s true, and while the words would be cruel were they said to anyone else, Harry takes them easily. He’s not good, and he isn’t showing much improvement, still struggling just as much as before, but it’s  _ fun _ . He’ll take the insults, he’ll let everyone laugh at him - he just likes being surrounded by his brothers. 

Even if it does mean being the butt of their jokes. 

“If you keep going at this rate, you’ll only be in the game for fifteen minutes,” Niall tells him, but there’s a grin on his face. 

“Yeah, but I’ll come back to life,” he shrugs.  

“ _ Tomorrow _ .”

At Niall’s words, Harry’s gaze snaps up. “Seriously?” He was never told this. 

“When you’re dead, you’re dead, Haz,” Grimmy sighs from where he’s on the floor. Out of all of the brothers, Grimmy and Niall are by far the most intense about the game, and it definitely shows in how they react to the simplest of mistakes they make. “You’re out of the game until the server resets.”

“And when you come back, all the experience you earned that day disappears,” Niall adds. 

Grimmy nods. “Resources too.” 

“Not if someone in your tribe survives.”

Harry’s not even been looking at his screen, too caught up in the conversation amongst everyone else. “So if all of you die, but I survive, only I keep the experience we earned, but all of us keep our resources?” The brothers laugh before Harry’s even finished speaking. 

“If  _ you _ survive?” The mocking tone in Mitch’s voice is almost insulting. 

“Yeah, Haz,” Liam chuckles. “Maybe think more realistically.” 

Harry can’t help but pout. For being brothers, they’re not very supportive. “One day you’re going to need me.” 

“Tell you what,” Niall says, laughing. He actually looks up from his computer, which is more than any of the other brothers did. “If you manage to save the tribe at some point, we’ll finally throw that awful gin party you’ve been trying for.” 

“Really?”

At the last meeting the house had come together for, Harry had pitched a gin party. It was something new, something none of the other frats had ever done, and he was more than excited for it than any other party he’d ever pitched before. 

He was met with a chorus of  _ boos, _ and Niall even threw an empty box of tissues at him. 

Despite their discouragement of the unique - and clearly brilliant - idea, Harry had made a petition and was trying to get everybody’s signatures. He’d been unsuccessful in his attempts, but he refused to stop. One day he’ll get his gin party. 

“But if you make us all lose at any point,” Grimmy says from his place against the door, “you have to resign your vice presidency.” 

“I don’t like those odds,” Harry says honestly. 

Niall laughs. “Is your gin party worth it?”

There’s not a bone in his body that even considers it. “Not at all.” He’d do nearly anything to have that gin party, but he doesn’t trust his abilities in the game to make that bet. 

He’s  _ really _ bad. 

↠↞

“Louis!” 

It’s early and Harry’s exhausted. Niall kept him up late after they finished playing the game, wanting to talk, and though Harry knew he had a morning class, he sat and listened, and shelled out advice. He walks to class feeling lethargic, but seeing Louis perks him up. 

With a soft smile, Louis slides into his seat. He pulls his homework out and puts it on his notebook, but doesn’t return the greeting. Harry watches with a grin. 

“So I started playing that game the other night,” he says. Louis doesn’t respond, only nods. “It was incredible, but I’m really bad at it.”

Louis laughs, a soft, mellifluous thing.  “I’ll bet.” 

“The frat threatened to kick me out of my VP position if I make them lose, and that might actually happen.” He didn’t take the bet, but they still talked about it. Harry chuckles at the thought. “I think you’d like it. I could teach you.” 

Louis shakes his head. “I’m alright.” His kind smile isn’t as big anymore. 

“Honestly, it’s really fun game,” Harry continues. “I’m sure it’d be even better if I wasn’t so terrible.” He laughs, even as Louis doesn’t. “Oh, I have to tell you this. There are these witches - they can only cast spells, but they can’t outright murder you unless they have a sword - and one of them placed an anti-coordination spell on me, but I actually ended up playing better.” 

Harry’s giggling, stuck in his own endless rambling, but Louis’ lips thin, and it’s clear he’s getting sick of the conversation. Harry slowly stops laughing, feeling the humor fade away from him.  

“But, uh, y’know…” He coughs. “It’s not that great.”

He looks at his notebook and curses to himself. Louis said he didn’t want to play, so obviously he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Harry’s just gone and made a fool of himself.

As the professor comes in, Harry’s still feeling a bit embarrassed over boring Louis, and he can’t find it in himself to say anything at all. There’s a bit of him that’s afraid Louis hates him. Even as he hears how ridiculous it sounds in his own head, he’s certain his skin stays flushed the entire class.  

↠↞

Despite Harry’s excitement to get started and prove himself in the tribe, he’s not playing any better than he was the last time. His aim is terrible, and he has to think about everything before he acts, meaning simple tasks take twice as long for him as they do for the rest of the pack. 

His brothers keep mocking him, laughing every time he falls down because he hadn’t thought quick enough to jump over something in his path. They make jokes of kicking him out of the tribe when he cuts down a tree too close to their home base and it nearly falls onto the home they’ve built. 

It’s all in good fun, though. Along with their teasing comes friendly laughter and gentle shoves to his shoulder. Harry’s giggling alongside them, feeling at home even as he barely catches himself from walking right off the edge of a cliff. 

So he’s not great - that’s all right. He’s playing for fun anyway, and even if his brothers have stuck him on resource duty, it’s still nice to be surrounded by them and enjoying a common interest. 

He’s not getting as many experience points as the others, which means his attacks won’t be as strong, but it’s been silently agreed on that Harry isn’t fighting material. He’s more of a house man, someone to collect what’s needed to build on their base, and to make sure all of their strongest weapons are protected on their untouchable territory, and it’s more than alright with him. 

Although no matter how quickly he knows he’d lose, the idea of a battle interests him more than he cares to admit. 

Halfway through Harry cutting down a tree, there’s a tinny electronic yelling, and then Grimmy’s indignant, “What the  _ fuck _ ,” echoes through the hallway. 

When Harry looks over, Grimmy’s staring at his screen, mouth dropped in shock, eyebrows furrowed in anger. Next to him, Niall’s all but cackling. 

“What happened?” Harry asks, doing his best to watch his screen as well as his brothers. 

“Some arsehole just came out of nowhere and fucking killed me,” Grimmy says. He’s sitting tensely, shoulders squared and looking ready to fight. 

That’s something Harry doesn’t have in common with his brothers - the intensity.  _ Soulrealm _ is fun to play - hard, yes, but fun all the same. He finds himself looking forward to playing it as the time for the server to go up approaches, but at the end of the day, he’s plenty aware that it’s all just a game. If he were to suddenly die, he’d be fine. Surprised, sure, but definitely not angry. 

He wouldn’t hold such tension or let it affect him the way Grimmy does. 

“It’s because he wasn’t paying attention,” Shawn laughs, mocking Grimmy from his seat in front of his room without even looking up from his computer. 

“I  _ was _ ,” Grimmy yells back. “He appeared literally out of nowhere!” 

Niall rolls his eyes, not believing Grimmy was killed suddenly with no warning. “I’m sure that’s what happened, Grimmy.” 

Out of complete frustration with the game and his brothers, Grimmy all but growls and storms down the stairs, leaving his laptop lying sideways on the floor. 

Instead of chasing after him or yelling their apologies, all of the brothers go back to their game, eyes squinted as they stare attentively at their games. Harry does so much more lax, watching the stairs a moment longer to see if Grimmy will be back. When he doesn’t return, Harry goes back to chopping down his tree. 

In the corner of his screen, their player count has one greyscale tribesman silhouette whereas the other seven of them are various colors. Despite the fact Harry’s nearly killed himself just by being completely fucking inept, it’s the first time he’s witnessed a death in the game, and it’s a much different feeling than he’d expected. 

Sure, he always figured there’d be some anger, but he thought the other guys would continue laughing and having a good time; however with someone gone, the others become far much more invested in making sure their own players are safe. They want to maintain everything they’ve worked all night to earn. 

Later, as Harry’s putting all of his wood in the resource chest, he hears Liam’s gasp along with a whispered, ‘ _ No. _ ’ Harry looks up and sees Liam’s forehead pinched, lower lip between his teeth. “This guy came out of nowhere.”

“I’m on my way,” Niall says, his fingers tapping harshly on his keyboard. 

Harry, too, runs out of their fort and goes towards the forest where most of their tribe is. Before he’d joined the game, his brothers had cleared out an open area to build their base, so Harry has a long way to go to reach the others. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Liam curses as his tribesman icon drains of color. 

They’ve only got six players left. 

“I’m almost there,” Harry says. It’s a lie - he’s not even close - but he wants to be in the action. It’s his second day of playing, and he’s yet to battle. 

“Honestly, Haz, turn around,” Niall tells him, not looking up from his game to do it. “This guy’s about to have me.” He’s tapping away at his keys aggressively, and he’s worrying his lip as he fights. 

Harry doesn’t listen, just keeps running. He wants to battle, even if it means he’s going to die quickly. He just wants to try. 

“What’s his user handle?” Michael’s sitting in front of his door at the other end of the hallway, and he has to nearly yell to be heard. “I’ll look him up in the database.” 

Liam hums and begins scrolling. “ _ The Rogue _ .” 

As Michael’s typing, apparently able to find the character that’s just killed Liam just by his name, Niall curses loudly and his laptop tumbles off of his lap and onto the floor. His tribesman turns grey. 

Harry keeps his character running towards the remaining players, but frantically looks around the hallway at his brothers. Liam, Niall, and Grimmy are all out, which means that this player must be going after their tribe. 

“I think I’m next,” Mitch says. He’s usually quiet when they play - when they do anything, really - but he’s cursing as he taps away, fighting the player. 

“I’m close by,” Shawn announces. “If we take him on together, we can beat him.”

As they get to work taking on The Rogue, Harry maintains his path. “And I’m still on my way,” he reminds them. 

“Did you not hear what I said, Haz? Stay back.” Niall leaves his spot in front of his room and begins crawling towards Harry, crowding into his space and watching from his screen. 

“No, I want to play.” 

Niall huffs, as his finger comes up to point to their player count. There are only five colored icons left. “If everyone dies, we lose all of our resources.” 

As Niall’s speaking, two of the icons suddenly turn grey, and with the change, he can hear Mitch’s quiet, “ _ What? _ ” and Shawn’s squawk. They’re both gone. 

“Danny and Michael are both alive.”

The statement rings true for only a few moments until Danny gasps in the corner. His icon loses color. “He just - ”

“We still have Michael?” Harry’s voice is slightly shaky. He realizes that maybe this wasn’t his best idea, and he probably should’ve stayed back on base and protected everything. 

“Haz, I’m serious,” Niall yells in his ear. 

Suddenly, Harry sees why they get so into about the game. He can’t see himself ever approaching Niall or Grimmy’s levels of intensity, but he’s a little worked up. Even just running towards the battle, not even interacting yet, is a bit much. 

He knows he should listen to Niall, knows it’s safest for himself back at the base, but he made a decision, and he wants to stick to it. 

Two doors down from Harry, Danny’s still staring at his screen, jaw slightly dropped. “Did you hear what he said?” 

“Oh yeah,” Liam nods. It’s the first thing he’s said since dying, and he looks a lot looser now than when he’d first been killed. “He’s got a mouth that’d put Niall to shame.” 

“He’s got some sweet moves, too,” Shawn laughs. He’s probably the lightest of them all in terms of dealing with dying. 

“What happened?” Harry asks. He crosses into the forest, and breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m almost there!” 

“ _ Harry _ .”

Instead of chastising Harry like Niall’s taken to doing, Shawn just laughs. “He stabbed through both of us at once. I didn’t even know you could do that.” 

Harry didn’t know that was possible either, but that’s probably because he’s never actually been in battle. The characters could wear each other’s faces as masks, and it wouldn’t seem out of sorts to him. A little disturbing, yes, but Harry would think it normal. 

“Okay, I’ve got his profile,” Michaels says finally, and Niall crosses the hallway to sit next to him. “He joined today, but his experience is already at Niall’s level.” 

“How is that possible?” Niall asks. “Do you think he’s cheating?” 

Liam crawls over to join them as well, and soon, the other boys are crowding the small section in the hallways where Harry and Michael are sitting. He’s certain they can still view the game on their own screens, but Mitch and Danny are suddenly both squeezing beside him anyway. 

“No, his system board is clean.” Michael’s typing at his computer, and Harry hopes he hurries in his research because he’s vulnerable to being attacked, and Harry really can’t face this character on his own. “He’s just  _ really _ fucking good.”

“And really crass.” Danny laughs, leaning forward a bit to make eye contact with Mitch past Harry’s head. “Did you hear what he said?” 

They talk about what was supposedly said, but Harry stays out of it, clueless to whatever it was. It’s not even a minute later that he’s coming across a character whose name is lit up in red. 

_ The Rogue _ . 

“Alright, I’m ready,” Harry says. He sits up straighter and ignores Niall’s angry huff. He clicks through his inventory slowly, looking for a weapon, but the Rogue storms away. “He walked right past me.”

“Yeah, he’s coming for me.” Suddenly, Michael’s slamming on his keyboard. Harry’s close enough this time to witness the fight, and he approaches them to help take out the enemy, but he has terrible aim, and does next to no damage. “And I’m done.” 

Michael’s still alive, but his health bar is basically empty. He doesn’t have much longer before he’s gone. 

“So I have to stay alive now?” 

All of his brothers in the hall shout “ _ Yes! _ ” at once. And then Michael’s icon turns grey in the corner. 

Liam yells, “Get back to base!” and Harry starts running. 

He doesn’t even make it five steps when The Rogue steps in front of him and decapitates him before Harry realizes what’s happening. The moment he hits the ground, a tinny voice is ringing out, “ _ Rest in fucking peace, prick, _ ” and Harry’s eyes widen in shock. 

Even with Danny going on about the vulgarity, he hadn’t realized it would sound so out of place and aggressive when it happened. He turns to Niall, jaw dropped, and asks in bewilderment, “Did you hear that?” 

“Don’t fucking talk to me, Haz,” Niall snaps. He stand ups and approaches the door to his room. “All you had to do was stay on the base.”

Nearly everyone is angry about the loss, the entire day a waste as they all have to go back to where they stood yesterday, but all Harry feels is shock. He was the reason they all lost the day. 

He’s  _ really _ glad he didn’t take their bet. 

↠↞

Over the next few weeks, Harry plays the game every single night. His playing has improved: not by much, but still. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to do anything with his skills as every time they log in, they get enough time to gain some experience and collect some resources before The Rogue is coming in and taking it all away. 

In fact, the rest of the university is also being haunted by the mysterious player. It’s all anybody can talk about nowadays: this nefarious player, and how much they can’t wait until they take him down. 

But for all their talking, nothing happens. 

Every tribe, every individual player, is out for blood, but they’re never successful. Everyone who ever comes close is killed, and the next day, they’re the first player targeted, slaughtered as an act of revenge. It’s positively brutal. 

Nobody is really improving in the game, either. The opportunity to get stronger doesn’t come and no levels are raised. They can’t when all experience points are taken away. Very few players live through a day on the game. 

Outside of the  _ Soulrealm _ , there’s an  _ actual _ manhunt going down for The Rogue. Based on the character’s looks and his user handle, everyone wants to find the player and bring him down. 

Most peculiar is his voice. Every time he takes a player down, he parts with aggressive and crude language, and while his voice should give him away, Harry’s certain he’s using a voice modifier as it’s deeper than his own, and that just seems unlikely to Harry. 

There was one time, though, one day where his goodbye message was said in an airy voice, something light and raspy. It was achingly familiar, but the memory of it began to warp as his brothers began yelling about their own deaths. 

Had he been alone, Harry’s certain he could’ve placed it. 

He didn’t though, and now they’re all back to not knowing how to identify him or how to take him out. It’s gotten to the point that even after dying, everybody stays and watches as a bystander, hoping someone takes the rogue out… 

Nobody ever does.  

↠↞

After class one day, as Harry’s watching Louis pack up his bag, he’s struck with a sudden and completely random feeling of optimism and confidence, and decides to take another chance and ask Louis out again. He’s been burned many a time before, but there’s something about today that has him leaning towards Louis. 

“Hey, Lou.” At Harry’s greeting, Louis looks at him through his eyelashes, head bent down as he zips his bag. “I was just wondering if you’d want to go get some lunch with me? Or brunch, really.” Louis raises an eyebrow in response, but doesn’t say anything. “Actually, I suppose it’s breakfast, isn’t it?” 

Louis’ face cracks, then, and he laughs, shaking his head. “Sure.” 

At first the words don’t register, Louis’ smile taking up too much space in his head, but when they do, Harry’s eyes widen and he has to make a conscious effort to keep his jaw from dropping. “Wait, really?” 

“I was headed there already anyway,” Louis says. He’s shrugging and his tone sounds bored, but he’s still grinning. 

“I don’t care.” It feels like Harry’s floating, he’s so happy. His smile is stretched wide across his face, and he knows his eyes are lit up. “You still said yes. I’m taking it.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look annoyed. Like always, Harry’s ridiculously charmed. 

Together they walk to the cafeteria, bags on their back as they make their way across campus. It’s silent between them, everything Harry wants to say stopping in his throat. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, afraid to upset Louis so early into what he hopes will eventually be a relationship. 

Because technically, this isn’t even a date. According to Louis, this is just a convenient walk for breakfast, and Harry doesn’t want it to go sour before he can convince Louis to run away with him and raise a family together.

It appears that not saying anything is working in his favor, as Louis’ got a slight smile on his face, not minding the quiet. Harry keeps giving him sideways glances, opening his mouth to speak, but Louis just continues looking forward. 

Even as they’re standing in line to get their food, even as Harry lets Louis lead the way to find them a seat to sit at, the silence continues, and Louis seems content. 

They end up choosing a seat by a window, a small, two-seater table. It’s personal, intimate, and feels like a date. Harry knows it isn’t, but lying to himself is easy when he’s in an environment that backs it up. 

“So tell me about yourself,” Harry prompts when they’re seated. At first it feels like the right thing to say, but then he sees Louis face, flat and overall unimpressed. “Alright, that was vague. Tell me about home. Do you have any siblings?”

In an instant, any sign of indifference disappears and Louis’ face lights up. He begins talking about his family, his sisters, his mum - he doesn’t stop for quite a while, and when he does, it’s to ask Harry about  _ his _ sister. 

Long after their meals are finished, Louis and Harry still stay seated and talking. Louis hasn’t given Harry his classic look of detachment - he’s fully invested in their conversation, listening as much as he’s talking, and Harry can feel himself falling in love. 

Louis is so  _ funny,  _ is the thing. He’s got a lot to say, and his timing is incredible. They’re ridiculously compatible, and if Harry didn’t have a class to get to at noon, he would stay seated in the cafeteria, talking to Louis for the rest of the night. 

The only time there’s ever a lull is when Harry brings up  _ Soulrealm _ . He can see Louis biting back comments, and he wants to urge a conversation on, but it never goes anywhere. It’s all right, though, and it doesn’t cease their breakfast date. They change subjects and talk music, and they’ve impossibly similar tastes. 

Harry is in love. 

When they part, Harry almost late for his next class, he gives Louis his number, insisting he wants to hear back. Louis rolls his eyes with a smile, acting like he’s just going to throw the slip of paper away, but Harry has faith. 

Today was too perfect not to. 

↠↞

A week goes by, and Louis doesn’t call, but he talks to Harry in class and nothing seems to be wrong. They don’t start dating, so Harry keeps playing the game with his brothers, and they all keep losing. 

Badly. 

It seems like every time Harry sees Niall, the lad is moments away from crying. They try to brainstorm some ways to defeat The Rogue, but they just aren’t cutting it. 

Even so, they keep playing. 

↠↞

As Harry’s just walking through the door, returning home from his afternoon Film Studies class, his phone goes off in his pocket. He doesn’t get to it right away, too preoccupied with throwing his bag in the living room and rushing off to the kitchen for a bite to eat. The frat is determined to take out The Rogue today - so much so that they’ve even convinced Liam to call off work. 

Harry grabs an entire box of granola bars out of the cabinet, and makes his way up the stairs. It’s still thirty minutes until the server goes up, but he grabs his laptop from his bed and then heads into Niall’s room and takes a seat under the window, wanting to be ready the moment the game goes live. 

His pocket buzzes a second time, reminding him that he had a message go unanswered. He takes his phone out and sees that Louis’ texted him twice. 

**Louis:** _ Are you free today? _

**Louis:** _ I need some help with yesterday’s book work.  _

It’s about homework help, not about a grand date, but Harry isn’t put off in the least. He didn’t expect Louis to reach out to him at all, but he is - and only a week after he’d gotten Harry’s number. 

It’s a good sign, Harry thinks. 

He starts typing his reply as he munches on his first granola bar. 

**Harry** :  _ definitely! Want to come by the frat house at 10? _

**Louis** :  _ Could we meet any earlier? Around 6 or something?  _

**Harry** :  _ soulrealm _

**Louis** :  _ Right.  _

It’s not exactly an enthusiastic response, but it’s still an affirmation. He’s still coming over, to Harry’s frat house, to study. 

Tonight. 

It’s not a date, but it sure as hell feels like one. 

He isn’t able to get  _ too _ excited, as the rest of his brothers, the ones that play the game at least, slowly make their way into the room and start discussing strategy. Of course, most of the strategy involves everyone else fighting their hardest whilst Harry stands by as a last resort. 

He’d complain, but it’s better than having him just sit on base and protect their resources. At this point in the game, they aren’t able to collect much anyway, The Rogue usually showing up within the first two hours of the game and killing them before their bags are even full enough to make a trip back to the resource chest. 

So maybe playing is useless, but Harry still gets a kick out of the game. 

When the servers go up, everybody makes their way to the forest to start collecting, but they never make it. 

Within the first five minutes of the game, the entire tribe is slaughtered. They’d never stood a chance, not expecting to be attacked so quickly. Even Niall’s out before he can get a proper swing at The Rogue. 

Instead of logging off and calling it a night, they all stay on as third-party viewers,  _ praying  _ that another tribe manages to successfully kill him. Even on their different screens, they’re all yelling at the players, rooting for the ones that end up losing.

It’s a lot like watching footie with his sister. He doesn’t understand everything that’s happening, but he knows his favorite people are the losers. 

All in all, it’s a tough day. The Rogue is truly out for blood, and from his spot on the bed, Niall’s getting tenser and angrier as every minute goes by. 

The brothers are all holding out hope that someone will manage to kill the enemy, but as time winds down and the server warnings start flashing that time is almost up, The Rogue disappears completely, making his way back to his base. 

Another day of the enemy winning, and Niall is incredibly angry. A book goes flying at the wall, and in an instant, Shawn’s up and consoling Niall as the other brothers make their way into their own rooms, each of them dealing with their disappointment in their own ways. 

Most of them are quite loud about their frustrations. 

At ten-thirty exactly, Harry’s distraction rings the door, and he runs down the stairs, excited for their not-date. 

He swings the door open with a wide grin. “Hey! Sorry we couldn’t meet earlier.” 

“It’s fine.” Louis’ tense, looks a bit like Liam did after their tribe was taken out earlier in the night - generally unhappy. Harry opens the door and lets Louis walk in. “You ready to get to work?”

“Absolutely.” He shuts the door and leads them to the living room. “I’d take you up to to my room to study, but this will actually be quieter. Everyone’s a bit angry from the game.” His bag is still sitting sideways on the couch where he’d thrown it in his rush to play earlier. 

Louis sets his own bag down on the table and gets to work unloading his books. “Do you all really take it that seriously?”

“They do, yeah,” Harry says. 

“They?”

“Niall and Grimmy take it the hardest, but I’m not that upset,” Harry explains as he sits on the ground across from Louis. He pulls his bag in his lap. “I was really bad to begin with, so even an okay player would’ve killed me.” 

Louis smiles a little, and Harry counts it as a victory. “So it doesn’t frustrate you that you keep dying?”

“A little, I guess,” he shrugs. “Mostly it just sucks that I’ll never be able to get better, but really, what chance was there of that happening in the first place?” Louis laughs at his joke, and Harry can feel himself mimicking the action, finding Louis’ joy infectious. 

“So why don’t you stop playing?” Louis asks. 

“Nothing else is holding my interest, so I may as well.” 

Louis hums, a quiet thing, as his smile lessens. Harry doesn’t think he said anything upsetting, or did something insulting, but he knows Louis’ reaction is to him somehow. 

He’s just really fucking confused. 

“We should get started.” 

Louis drops to the ground to sit across from Harry, and they take out their worksheets to get to work. They work together to get it done, and Louis’ much more help to Harry than Harry could ever be to him, but Harry keeps his mouth shut about it, not sure Louis would stick around if he were to figure out that Harry’s a bit clueless on the assignment. 

They get along just as well as before, but they’re more invested in their work this time. It doesn’t feel like they’re strictly classmates, though. There’s an air of tension around them that’s definitely not platonic, and it’s wonderful. Harry wants to see Louis again in a less university-heavy environment, and soon. They’re too good together not to have that happen. 

When they finish their work, it’s quickly approaching midnight, and Harry finds himself aching to see more of Louis. “You should come over tomorrow night, too.” 

Louis laughs, closing his book gently and sliding it into his bag. “I think I have to decline.” 

“ _ Please _ .” Were Harry not already on the floor, he’d be falling down, begging to see Louis again. “I promise it’ll be fun. We can watch movies.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ll stay at least two feet away from you at all times.” 

Louis laughs, but doesn’t say anything for a moment. His notebook closes and his pencil case is zipped, and then he’s shaking his head. Harry would think it bad, but there’s a small grin playing on his face. “ _ One _ movie,” he says. “That’s it.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” 

I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Louis leaves without looking back at Harry, but he’s smiling, and Harry’s almost certain he can see a slight color to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. 

↠↞

The next day, the game kicks their arses. 

The Rogue doesn’t join the game until about seven, but when he does, he’s putting up a fight. He’s less aggressive today, more willing to battle. There’s always a bit of a fight, and they think they stand a chance, but The Rogue ends up winning.  

It’s almost as though he’s letting them think they have a chance before taking them out. Things look positive for a few minutes, and just when they think they have a chance, it’s all over. 

The only person who even comes close in the end is Niall. He’d spent the first couple hours of the game deep in the woods fighting the undead and some witches, creatures that honestly couldn’t kill him unless he was just standing there. He’d gained as much experience as he possibly could have and then went after The Rogue. 

There’s a fight, a duel, that goes on for ten minutes. A lucky strike has The Rogue’s health bar near empty, and for a moment, the entire house holds their breath, truly believing Niall’s going to win. But then The Rogue stops playing around and stabs Niall through the chest, killing him immediately, before disappearing to his own base to heal. 

The game ends not soon after. 

Things don’t end easily, and nobody gets to walk away without disappointed sighs and a promise to work harder tomorrow.

“Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me?!” Niall storms into his room and then there’s a crash. 

Within seconds of the servers turning off, Niall’s on a rampage. From the start, it’s so bad that Harry locks his bedroom door to protect himself from the mess. Shawn, who ordinarily would jump at the chance to calm Niall down, to be close to him, is keeping his distance, locking himself in his room as well. 

It’s just a game, is what Harry tells himself so he doesn’t let some virtual world get the better of him. He wouldn’t dare say such a thing to Niall, though. That’s just a recipe for disaster. With his reaction to losing as angry as it was, Harry doubts hearing ‘ _ It’s just a game! _ ’ would make him feel any better about it. 

By the time the doorbell rings at exactly ten-thirty, Niall has made his way downstairs in his rage-filled tantrum, and Harry is fearing Louis’ entrance and how to get him upstairs without crossing paths with Niall. 

He makes his way to the door quickly and quietly, and opens it with a finger over his mouth, communicating to Louis not to say a word. In the kitchen, Niall’s aggravated grunts are echoing along with the sound of cupboards being slammed shut. 

On a particularly loud  _ thud _ , Louis jumps, and his intake of air makes Harry laugh. “What’s going on in there?”  

“Niall almost killed The Rogue,” Harry tells him, slowly making his way up the stairs, practically tiptoeing in an effort to not set Niall off. 

“What’s the rogue? 

Harry’s head snaps to Louis, looking at him as though he’s  _ insane _ . It’s been almost two months since The Rogue started terrorizing everyone online, and nobody’s been able to shut up about it since. But then he remembers that while it’s a hot topic amongst people who play the game, those who don’t wouldn’t understand. 

It probably makes no sense to Louis. 

“It’s a part of  _ Soulrealm _ ,” Harry explains, stopping halfway up the stairs. “Niall came really close to…” he trails off, trying to think of a way to explain it without talking Louis’ ear off about the game and annoying him. “Winning, I guess. He was killed before he could though.” 

Unlike Harry’d been expecting, Louis doesn’t roll his eyes or tense his lips in irritation. He looks interested for once. “And he’s mad about it?”

“Yeah - ” Harry’s cut off by the sound of Niall yelling, and immediately after, a cutting board comes bouncing out of the kitchen. Louis and Harry watch as it tumbles its way under the dining room table. “Just a bit.”

Louis laughs, and Harry has to cover his mouth before Niall hears. He drags Louis up the stairs quickly, not caring about the noise as Louis’ probably just given their location away. 

Not that he can be mad about it. 

When they get upstairs, every room except for Niall’s is closed. He pulls Louis to the end of the hall and unlocks his door. The moment Louis is through, Harry’s shutting the door and locking it tight. It’s for their own good, to keep Niall out, but when he turns, Louis looks entirely unimpressed. His lips are thin and his eyebrows raised. 

“Niall’s going to make his way upstairs soon,” Harry explains, aware of how silly it sounds. “We need to be safe.” 

“Right.” Louis’ nodding, arms crossed against his chest. He’s usually an expert at looking detached and a bit irritated, but this time there’s a hint of a smile giving himself away. “And it just so happens to be when I’m here?” 

“If you want to face him, be my guest.” Harry gestures to the door but doesn’t make a move to open it. Louis doesn’t either. “I won’t stop you.” 

Louis hums, standing still for all of ten seconds before turning around and approaching Harry’s television. “So what movie are we watching?” 

Harry lets Louis pick the movie, and lets him take a seat on the bed while Harry settles into his desk chair. As much as he wants this to be a date, he keeps his distance so not to scare Louis off. It works in his favor - halfway through the movie, Louis invites him to join him on the bed with an offhand comment about how uncomfortable the chair looks. 

As the night goes on and the movie comes to an end, they slowly switch from sitting with distance between them, to lying with distance between them, to full on cuddling as they fall asleep together. 

In the morning, there’s no awkwardness. Harry makes Louis breakfast, and they part with a hug and a promise to watch another movie together soon. 

It’s the best night Harry thinks he’s ever had. 

↠↞

In class, Louis and Harry pass notes, and it feels ridiculous, stupid in a way that lights Harry up inside. He feels like he’s in year ten again, exchanging secret smiles with Johnny across the room in maths. 

It’s innocent and wonderful, and when Louis gets yelled at for laughing too hard at Harry’s pun, blushing and going quiet, Harry decides then and there he wants to spend the rest of forever in this moment. 

Under their tables, Louis’ foot runs against Harry’s ankle, and goddammit, Harry’s gone for this lad. 

↠↞

When The Rogue is finally taken out, it’s because of sheer strategy. 

There’s not a tribe in the game that could ever even hope to acquire the amount of experience or resources that The Rogue has. It’d take months of battling, and would require them to live through every day - something that The Rogue has happily prevented everyone from doing. 

So, they don’t have muscle on their side - that’s fine. Harry’s not much of a gamer, he doesn’t spend his every day watching for patterns, but he  _ does _ notice something peculiar. 

The Rogue isn’t with a clan. 

He’s on his own, and while it means he has all the power of his team instead of splitting experience and resources, it also mean he has nobody on his side, and as he’s dying at the end of each day, he needs to retreat home, which nobody can find. At least, they couldn’t find it until they were looking. 

Which is  _ exactly _ what Harry has everyone do. Various players spread out across the map the moment it’s started, and for a solid two hours, nobody does anything. There’s not a move made to play the game, everybody sitting silently and  _ waiting _ . 

It’s just past seven when a player from another tribe sends Michael a message with the map coordinates of the hidden entrance to The Rogue’s base. Michael relays them to Harry, and he’s off, ready to camp out until The Rogue is weak enough for Harry to have a chance at killing him. 

Every player on the maps gives him hell, fighting their hardest, pulling out all the stops to weaken him, to beat him down until he can’t fight anymore. 

As usual, The Rogue knows when he doesn’t have it in him to fight anymore, and races off, away from the battlefield. He held his own for far longer than should be possible, but when he can’t take it anymore, he runs to his base, where Harry’s waiting. 

He only has one shot to get this right, something Niall’s been yelling at him for the past three and a half hours, but when the time comes, and a weakened Rogue comes wandering past, Harry jumps out from the shadows and swings his weapon. 

It’s a miracle that it hits, but it does. The game, the frat, the entire  _ campus _ is silent as The Rogue falls to the ground, his health bar disappearing. The red font on the left of the screen announces his death, and suddenly Harry’s got a pile of men on him, all yelling in awe and excitement. 

Harry feels on top of the world. 

The game continues on for another half an hour, and those that are still alive enjoy the time they’ve got left before the servers go down. Even when they do, the party continues, all of the brothers that play the game enjoying the freedom they’re graced with, while the others watch on in unadulterated joy. 

It’s about an hour after their win that a knock comes at the front door. Niall, being the closest to it, opens it, a wide grin upon his face. Harry can’t see who’s on the other side, but he hears Niall say, “Louis, right?” 

Harry doesn’t get a chance to walk over before Louis’ harshly shoving past Niall and stomping his way into the center of the room. He looks around for a moment before his eyes settle on Harry. His lips purse, his eyes close until they’re only slits, and he points an accusatory finger at Harry. “ _ You _ .” 

“Me?”

Louis ignores Harry’s confused gesture to himself and instead walks forwards with determined steps, grabbing Harry aggressively by the sleeve and dragging him up the stairs. Harry’s brothers watch on, smirking as the two make their way to Harry’s room. 

When Louis shuts the door behind them, he lets go of Harry, planting his hand on the center of Harry’s chest, and pushing him with enough force that his knees hit the bed and he’s sitting. The silence sits heavily between them, Louis pacing in front of the bed, until Harry sighs. 

“What’s up?” 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Louis snaps. It’s sudden and there’s a fury behind it that makes Harry sit up straight. “Oh my god.” It’s the first time Harry’s seen Louis looking anything other that pleasant, and it’s making him a bit confused. “I just want to  _ yell _ for a moment.” 

Despite his confession, Louis doesn’t begin to yell. He doesn’t do much of anything. Harry sits still on the bed, letting Louis walk out his frustration for a few minutes. 

“You can,” he tells Louis, after it goes on for a moment too long. “Yell, that is.” 

And Louis does. He doesn’t say anything, just stands, head tilted to Harry’s ceiling, and  _ shouts _ . It’s unintelligible, garbled nonsense, but Harry doesn’t interrupt. When Louis finishes, he stays looking at the ceiling. 

“Can I ask what I did wrong?”

“No you fucking can’t,” Louis answers. He’s turned now so he’s facing Harry, eyes slitted in a glare. There’s an energy thrumming under his skin, and Harry feels like he needs to calm him down. 

Harry stands up, his hands out in case Louis decides to suddenly start yelling again. “Let’s just - ”

Before Harry can finish his words or even understand what’s happening, Louis leans up and kisses Harry. He’s a bit tense with it, still holding his anger, and Harry’s eyes widen in shock. Louis pulls back, his face mirroring Harry’s with surprise. 

“I’m sorry, was that not - ” Louis’ face is slowly turning pink, and he’s stuttering his words out. “Did you not want? I just thought - ”

“I… I definitely want that.” Harry nods, making sure to look Louis in the eyes. “Have for three years, thanks. I just think maybe right now you’re letting your anger translate itself into something you don’t want.”

“Don’t want - ” Louis begins to talk, but then his eyebrows raise as Harry’s words sink in. “Wait, three years?” 

The genuine shock is his voice makes Harry laugh. He hasn’t gone a day without putting the moves on Louis since they met. “I’ve very obviously been into you since we were first years.”

“No you weren’t.” 

“Yes I was?” Though Louis’ scowling at him, Harry can’t help but grin. “Are you kidding me? I asked you out twice a month.”

“I thought you were making fun of me,” Louis mumbles, his arms crossing themselves across his chest.

“Making fun of you?”

Louis rolls his eyes, but it’s not done in irritation like before. Now, it seems like a nervous tick, “Because I had a crush on you. When you bumped into me and I was a right mess. I was blushing and stuttering and - ” He stops himself to look at Harry, lips flat and eyes narrowed. “You mean  _ you _ didn’t know? Haven’t you seen yourself?” 

Harry shrugs. “I figured you were just shy.” 

“ _ Shy _ ?” The astonishment and vexation is back in Louis’ tone, his mouth falling open slightly as if he’s offended by the word. “I’m not fucking  _ shy _ . You’ve heard me on the game. I don’t give a shit what people think of me.” 

Every time Harry’s encountered Louis, he’s been met with small grins and red tinted cheeks. He’d never thought that translated into Louis being into him - he’d always assumed that Louis was just a shy person, someone who didn’t talk much and got flustered when he had to talk, and - 

Wait…  

“In the game?” Harry asks. Louis pales, and Harry takes a moment to understand what he means, and then it hits him, why Louis came over so angry, why he never wanted to talk about the game with Harry, and he laughs. “Oh my god. You’re The Rogue, aren’t you?” 

“No, I - ”

“You  _ are _ ,” Harry pushes, face lighting up in sheer glee. “That’s why you’re so angry, isn’t it?” Louis’ starting to blush, his breath stuttering - it’s just like the first time they met. “You came over here yelling because you’re mad I was better than you.” 

Louis huffs, his arms dropping from where they were crossed. “You’re not better than me. You just got lucky.” 

“I was better than you today.” He wasn’t. It was all luck. “And that’s why you’re throwing a tantrum, revealing all your secrets to me, baby. You just can’t keep it all in, and you’re letting me see all your cards.” 

Louis splutters, face filling with color. Harry steps closer, and Louis looks up, but he doesn’t back away. “I - ”

Harry quirks an eyebrow and, for a moment, fears he may have spooked Louis. There’s a war going on his head, clearly, with the way his eyes keep flicking between Harry and the floor, but then he stands on his toes, stretching his neck to kiss Harry again. He’s hesitant with it this time, lips pillow soft for a bit, and Harry responds, giving back what he’s getting, and not trying to take it too far - not just yet, at least. 

When he pulls back, there’s a stillness about Louis. His eyes are no longer wild, and his shoulders are much more relaxed. He’s a sight like Harry’s never seen before. 

“You know what I think?” he asks, dropping his voice a bit. Louis hums and leans up to try and kiss Harry again, but instead of falling into it, he grabs Louis’ bottom lip between his teeth and tugs gently before letting go. Louis’ eyes cloud over a bit, and a thrum of arousal beats beneath Harry’s skin. “I think you let the game get to you, and you came out looking for a way to get rid of all this negative energy.” 

“I - no…” Louis shakes his head, but he doesn’t seem to know where he’s going with his words. “I was angry at you.” 

“Were you?” Harry asks. It’s rhetoric, laced in sarcasm, but Louis answers anyway.

“Yes, I - ”

“Then why’d you kiss me, love?” When Louis opens his mouth to respond, Harry nudges his thigh against Louis’ groin, where the other lad is starting to get hard. Louis hisses at the contact. “And what’s this about?” 

Louis rushes up to kiss Harry, a lot less gentle this time, and Harry takes control quickly. He turns them, and backs Louis up until the back of his knees hit the bed and he’s suddenly sitting on it. The action causes their mouths to separate. Harry leans down, lips touching Louis’, but neither of them lean in. 

“I think you need someone to help you out, a bit, don’t you?” Harry doesn’t move an inch, refuses to make a move until he gets an answer, but Louis only sighs, his eyelashes fluttering closed. “Will you let me take care of you, angel?” 

Louis nods quickly, his cheeks turning a deep red. Harry laughs, half at Louis’ eager reaction and half in relief that Louis wants this as much as he does, that they’re both feeling this string of tension pulling taught. He leans in to kiss Louis again, slowly nudging them up the bed in small motions until they’re towards the top, enough room for Louis to lie back.

But not yet. 

First, before they get too heated to think properly, Harry lets his hands run underneath Louis’ shirt, feeling at his waist and smoothing a path to his lower back. Louis shivers at the feeling, sitting up straight and giving Harry a chance to feel where his skin dimples. It’s way hotter than it has any reason to be, and Harry rushes to pull the shirt off of Louis. 

The fabric goes flying and lands somewhere on the floor, Harry too preoccupied with shoving Louis back until his head hits the pillow and reattaching their mouths to take notice. 

Slowly, Harry starts moving his open-mouthed kisses down Louis’ jaw, then his neck, and his chest. Soon he’s at the waistband of Louis’ joggers, and peels the fabric down, leaving only his skin tight pants. Harry can see a wet spot forming from how turned on Louis is - 

Harry’s entirely too into it. 

As he’s tugging the joggers down Louis’ legs, about to pull them off, something on Louis’ shins stops him. Something that, had they fallen into bed any time prior to this moment, would have surprised Harry a lot more.

There, tattooed on both of his shins respectively, reads “The Rogue.” Louis, as beautiful as he is, is the most transparent person on earth, and it makes Harry giggle. 

Louis kicks his leg out at the sound, hitting Harry in the thigh. “It’s unbecoming to laugh at a lad’s prick.”

“It’s  _ unbecoming _ ,” Harry grins sharply, slowly making his way up Louis’ face, “for you to parade around as some masked crusader and make a video game miserable for everybody.” When he’s at eye level again, he leans in and kisses Louis quickly, pulling away before Louis can relax into it. “You can never wear shorts again.”

Realizing what Harry’s talking about, Louis laughs and leans up. His lips meet Harry’s again, and together they work to take off Louis’ pants and Harry’s clothes, all while maintaining their kissing. It’s a bit sloppy and entirely unnecessary, but Louis’ addicting in a way that makes him feel a bit out of control. 

It’s intoxicating. 

When they’re both undressed, Louis pulls away, leaning back on the pillows to get a good look at Harry, and Harry takes the opportunity to do the same. Between them, there’s nothing but flesh and tattoos. They look like a coloring book when they’re next to each other, and it’s really fucking hot to Harry. 

Seeing Louis naked, witnessing the clear, hungry look in his eyes, has Harry’s dick throbbing. The pure  _ want _ in his veins is coursing through him quickly with no outlet. He leans down and kisses a path down Louis’ neck again, the same course of action as before, only this time he scratches lightly against Louis’ left nipple with his teeth. 

Louis moans at the feeling and arches up, his dick brushing Harry’s thigh. He makes an effort to thrust against him, but Harry gently pushes Louis’ hips down, holding him lightly against the bed. 

“Want me to fuck you, love?” Harry asks, feeling an urgency to get things moving forward. 

Louis answers with a sigh and nod, gasping out a soft, “ _ Yes _ ,” as Harry’s hands tighten their hold on Louis’ hips. When he’s certain Louis won’t move, he goes to his side table drawer and pulls out lube and a condom, grateful that he’s stocked with both and doesn’t have to make a run to Niall’s room. 

He uncaps the lube, drizzling it on his fingers, and reaches down to rub against where Louis’ legs are spread on either side of Harry, bent at the knee and exposing his entrance. Harry traces Louis’ hole a few times before sliding the first finger in. He’s met with a bit of resistance, but then Louis sighs and Harry slides in up to his knuckle. 

Looking up, Harry notices how tense Louis is; his lips are bitten wet, and his eyes are clenched closed. Harry wants this to be as good for Louis as it is for him, so he leans down and begins to suck a bruise into the crease of his skin where his hip meets the thigh. 

The moment he attaches his lips and adds suction, Louis lets out a sweet, airy moan, and Harry can feel his body go lax under his hands. 

So Harry adds another finger. 

He’s rewarded by Louis whimpering, his body thrusting down against Harry’s digits a few times before Harry stills him, mouth on his hip, resuming the love bites. Every time blood rushes just under the surface of Louis’ skin, Harry moves his mouth a few inches over and starts over, never really giving Louis a rest. 

After a particularly dark bruise is added to Louis’ collection, Harry slips a third finger in, groaning at the tight feel. The room feels hot, and the sheets are sticking to Harry’s torso where he’s lying alongside Louis, but Harry doesn’t care. He would die an overheated, dehydrated wreck if it meant having his fingers buried inside of Louis, marking his thigh with harsh, angry-looking lovebites. 

Slowly, almost sneakily, Louis’ left hand starts to make its way to his groin, reaching out to wrap around his prick. Harry reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can make contact. Louis whines, and his right hand reaches out, much more quickly, but Harry grabs that one as well, holding both of Louis’ wrists in his left hand, and marvels at just how dainty Louis truly is. 

“Angel, if you keep distracting me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fuck you,” Harry tells him. It sounds patronizing, and Louis sobs with it .

“Ple- _ ease _ .” Halfway through his voice breaks. Harry bends down and  _ bites _ at his bruised hip, groaning at how turned on he is. There’s a gasp, and next to his head, Louis’ already hard cock blurts a few drops of precum out. He looks up and sees Louis’ jaw dropped, his eyes staring blankly at where’s Harry’s smirking smugly against his discolored skin.

It’s bad enough that he knows Louis’ going to be aching with it for the next couple of days. He can’t find it in him to feel bad, not when he adds a fourth finger and Louis goes near silent, taking barely there gasps for air.

Harry slips his fingers out then, having enough of his own teasing, just wanting so slip inside Louis and live in the tight warmth for a bit. 

He makes his way up Louis’ naked, slick body and leans down, capturing Louis’ mouth with his own, kissing with fervor, biting Louis’ lips, sliding his tongue filthy against Louis’, keeping it going until Louis stops trying to match him, and just takes it, moaning everytime their mouths separate enough for him to get the air to do so. 

“You alright, baby?” Harry pulls away to ask. Louis nods, his eyes glassy, barely looking at Harry. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“N-need it,” Louis insists, his lower half thrusting against Harry’s thigh where it rests in between his legs. “Fuck me, Harry, fuck - ”

He’s cut off by Harry sucking his tongue into his mouth quickly, letting go almost as quickly as he latched on. He leans back and grabs the condom from next to Louis’ near purple hip, ripping it open and rolling it on his dick. Louis watches with wide eyes, wet lip pulled into his mouth. He looks so small lying in front of Harry, movements unsure. 

“How do you want me?” Louis’ out of breath, chest rising and falling with his words as his eyes go in and out of focus. 

Harry wants to break him down.  

“Just like this, darling,” Harry tells him, grinning sharply. He grabs the back of Louis’ neck and pulls him up so they can kiss. “Want to see your pretty face when I take you apart and put you back together again.” Harry reaches behind Louis and grabs an extra pillow, sliding it to where his back will fall to support him. Louis nods, moaning, and falls back against his pillow, already a beautiful, docile mess. 

Harry takes Louis’ unmarked hip in his right hand, holding it still as he fits his cock at Louis’ entrance. It’s tight, and Louis isn’t easing up.

“Need you to breathe for me, baby,” Harry instructs. Louis exhales, and the moment he does, Harry eases his head inside. The shock of it has Louis’ hiccupping a gasp, tensing again. His arse tighten around the bit of Harry that’s inside and he has Harry groaning, his grip on Louis tightening. 

At this rate, with Louis so in his own head, they’ll be like this for a while, so Harry leans forward, falling on his forearm next to Louis’ head and leaning down to capture his lips. 

It’s the distraction Louis needs to slacken. He sighs into Harry’s mouth, and the sound turns to a moan as Harry slides deeper into Louis, each inch another step closer to pure ecstacy. He reaches up and allows his thumb to trace lines on Louis’ cheek as he slips the rest of the way in. 

When he bottoms out it’s with a groan, his head falling tensely on Louis’ collarbone as Louis’ nails bite indents into Harry’s shoulder. Together, they stay still for a moment, allowing themselves time to adjust - it’s too good,  _ painfully _ good, and Harry’s not sure he could last if he picked up his pace right away. 

It starts with a slow glide, Harry pulling back until only the head is inside, and then pushing in completely. Louis’ mouth drops opens in a sigh and his eyes go to the ceiling, unfocused and glazed. Harry trails his left thumb over Louis’ porcelain cheek again, but this time allows it to dip, to rub across Louis’ bottom lip. Louis pulls the appendage into his mouth, and Harry stops his thrusts, overwhelmed as he watches Louis. He sucks on the thumb for a moment before his teeth drag harshly against the flat of it, and Harry’s hips twitch in response. 

He begins again, faster, harsher this time around, enjoying the slick heat of Louis’ arse squeezing around his prick like it’s trying to milk him for everything he has. Louis’ legs lift up and wrap around Harry’s lower body. It changes the angle so it’s just a bit better, and Harry finds himself chasing release until -  

Louis’ hand slides across Harry’s back, his nails light as a feather as they blaze a trail down Harry’s skin, not stopping when he gets to his hip, but instead reaching between them. Harry reaches out, taking Louis by the wrist, and gently eases his arm so it’s pushed into the mattress above his head. Louis tracks the movement with glassy eyes, whimpering pathetically.

“What’d I say, baby, hmm?” Harry asks, breath coming short. “I’ll take care of you.”

He kisses Louis then, leaning down and pecking him on the lips, the cheek, the jaw, the neck, but it’s not enough. Louis’ arching, trying to rub his cock against Harry’s stomach in an attempt to rub off. But Harry said he’d take care of Louis, and he intends on doing that, so he reaches down, adjusting Louis’ hips, each thrust a new angle, working together to find something amazing. 

There’s sweat pooling at the base of Louis’ spine, Harry’s right hand almost sliding off of where it’s glued to Louis’ hip. The room is stuffy, and Harry feels like every time he blinks, there’s a new drop of sweat on his eyelashes. 

It’s all  _ slick _ and  _ hot _ and  _ tight _ , and Harry’s in heaven. 

It only gets better when Louis gasps suddenly, something broken and urgent. His hand comes down in the center of Harry’s back, his nails digging in as he scratches up Harry’s spine. The pain of it has Harry  _ slamming _ forward brutally. 

Louis almost weeps with it. “ _ There _ ,” he cries, voice weepy and eyes unfocused, “ _ more _ .” 

Harry keeps the angle, not pausing his movements as he gives it to Louis, revelling in the broken, cut-off gasps he gives, struggling to get enough air in with the unforgiving pace Harry sets, not letting up, not wanting to when Louis’ sobbing is Harry’s favorite song. 

His arm starts cramping a bit, but Harry doesn’t want to stop, not when both of them are so close, the tension between them pulled as tight as it can go, about to  _ snap _ with the weight of their climaxes. He decides then to switch his grip, his right arm coming to hold his body up, as his left goes down and wraps around Louis’ waist. 

In the time they’d been fucking, as Harry mind was so consumed with the pleasure Louis was giving him, he’d forgotten just what he’d done to Louis’ hip, just how bruised it is. When Harry’s fingers bite into the tender love bites, Louis yells, and Harry almost pulls away - almost.

Not even seconds after Harry grips his hip, Louis, arse tightens, making it near impossible for Harry to move in the chokehold he’s in. Louis sobs out, bites Harry’s shoulder, and then his cock is twitching, splattering against their stomachs.

For a moment, Louis’ body is held tightly, but then he moans gently, a whisper of a thing, before his entire body in melting into the mattress. The moment he does, Harry continues working himself into Louis’ body, fucking into him at a merciless pace as he chases his own orgasm. 

It feels like he can barely breathe and his skin is tightening, feeling almost too small for his frame. He thrusts once, twice, and then he’s coming, painting the inside of the condom white with his release.  

He collapses on Louis, and for the first time all night, it feels like he can’t even move. And for a moment, he doesn’t, but his cock is getting soft, and he already has a mess to clean up - he doesn’t need another one. 

Underneath him, Louis laughs at his agonized groan as he rolls off Louis’ body, tying his condom off and setting in his bedside wastebin. 

Harry’s panting, Louis’ absolutely boneless, and Harry’s just had perhaps the best sex in his entire life. Harry’s arms are heavy, he can hardly lift them, and Louis looks moments away from floating off the bed. 

“I’ll get a towel for us,” Harry promises. “I just need a minute.” Next to him, Louis makes a barely-there noise of agreement. It’s awful close to the noises he was making as Harry was giving to him and… “Maybe five, actually.” 

 

Afterwards, they lie together, both naked, sheets rumpled at their waists for decency’s sake, but it’s still far too hot to really need them. Louis’ curled against Harry’s body, skin still slick with sweat, but Harry can’t find it in him to complain, not when Louis’ melted into him, soft and pliant in a thoroughly satisfied kind of way, as his finger draws patterns on Harry’s bare chest. 

“And I thought you weren’t shy,” Harry jokes, laughing even as Louis pinches his nipple in retaliation. 

They lie in silence for a bit longer until Louis sighs. “You know you’re not actually better than me, right? You’re just sneaky.” He doesn’t look up at Harry’s face, instead glaring at Harry’s chest with a frown. “And manipulative.” 

“And handsome,” Harry continues with a playful smirk on his face, “and hung, and charming.” 

Louis twists his nipple again, actually putting some strength into it this time, and it hurts. Harry hisses at the sting of it, reaching up to grip Louis’ wrist, rolling them both over in one fluid motion so Louis’ on his back and Harry’s hovering over him, holding his wrist into the mattress. 

Louis moans with the movement, letting out a soft, “Oh…” and Harry has to hold in his chuckle at the predictability. 

“I could beat you again,” he threatens. He lowers his head until the tip of his nose is pressed lightly to Louis’. “Anyday.”

“Yeah?” Louis’ voice is breathy, and Harry’s dick twitches in an attempt for another round just at the tone of it. “I - I’m a little competitive.” 

Harry laughs, letting go of Louis’ wrist. “Oh, are you?” He leans down and kisses Louis, a quick, chaste thing, before rolling away. 

“I’m…” Louis trails off, and after the quiet between them ticks on, Harry thinks he’s going to decide not to say anything, but he continues. “I’m not sure what this is because you said you’ve like me for a while - ”

“And you’ve liked  _ me _ ,” Harry points out. 

Louis rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “I have, yes.” Harry grins back as Louis rolls to face him, both of them on their sides watching each other. “I’d quite like to make this a more than one time thing, if that’s alright with you.” 

In an attempt to keep things light, to conceal the rapid beating of his heart, Harry gasps jokingly. “Are you asking to be  _ boyfriends _ ?”

Louis doesn’t move a muscle or say a word, just keeps looking at Harry. He’s being serious with it, and Harry lets the humor fade away, giving Louis an honest, sincere smile. “I’d love that, Louis.” 

They both lean forward at the same time to kiss, and Louis groans, pulling away with a crease between his brows. “You should probably know that I’m really competitive.”

“And you should probably know that I’m very much aware of this.”

“But I get really aggressive,” Louis goes on to explain. Harry nods, biting his tongue against a comment about how he knows this as well. “Every relationship I’ve been in has ended as soon as it’s began. Anything we do, I have to one-up them. I have this need to be the best. To be funnier, be more witty, be a better partner. I don’t like getting gifts because I always need to give a better one, and eventually they get annoyed by me, and it’s - ”

Harry kisses Louis silent, his tongue licking into his  _ boyfriend’s _ mouth to stop the incessant rambling. It doesn’t matter that Louis likes a bit of competition, that he can be a bit ruthless - Harry’s all right with it. He’s ready to give it back as good as he gets it. 

“I don’t mind a bit of competition.” 

↠↞

Throughout classes the next day, all anybody can talk about is the fact that somebody  _ finally _ took out The Rogue. That’s not an exaggeration either - Harry’s heard at least three conversations about it before he’s even seated in his eight in the morning sexualities class. 

Louis doesn’t look angry about it, though. Given his reaction to getting killed and their talk about being competitive, Harry expected nothing but anger and indignation, but he almost looks  _ cocky _ . 

The whole thing confuses Harry, not understanding why Louis looks so damn smug about their classmates’ excitement over his virtual murder, but he lets it go, doesn’t think too much about it. It’s hard to let his curiosity linger when Louis lets him hold his hand as they walk to the cafeteria for breakfast. 

He definitely holds Harry’s attention way better than any video game ever could. 

↠↞

He still plays, though. He can’t quit yet, not when the brothers are basically worshiping him for his strategic skills in capturing The Rogue. 

It didn’t even take any convincing for Louis to be all right with them not meeting up until after ten. Harry assumes it’s because he, too, will be playing, but Harry’s ready. He killed Louis once, and he can do it again. 

At the risk of sounding a bit sick, he’d  _ happily _ do it again. So long as it ended with a repeat of the night before, of course. 

About an hour into the game, Harry’s proven right. He’s deep into the forest, digging a second base with Mitch, when Liam gasps. “He’s back.” It doesn’t take a genius to decipher that he’s speaking about Louis. What is shocking is the furrow to Liam’s brow. “He walked right past me.”

Niall hums, and Harry can see his dot on the map running towards Liam’s. It’s only a minute before he says, “He didn’t even look at me.” 

They’re all silent, thinking about what could be happening, but Harry thinks he has an idea. “Try and fight him. ” 

Anytime someone tries to engage in a fight, Louis dodges out of the way. If he can’t escape, he keeps striking them until they’re too weak to continue, and then continues his path, leaving them alive. 

He’s coming after Harry. 

When he finally locates Harry, hiding underground with Mitch, he takes his sword and slams it down into the ground. Harry’s icon turns grey immediately, and Louis’ player disappears. 

“He’s gone,” Mitch says, voice tilting up at the end to show his confusion. 

Directly across from Harry, Michael’s fingers begin tapping at the keyboard. He keeps at it until he stops with a gasp. “His profile is deleted.” 

And Niall starts laughing, a loud, ringing cackle that echoes through the hallway. “He came back to kill Haz, and then he deleted himself…” Harry huffs. He’s not angry or surprised, just a bit miffed that it was so personalized.  _ This _ is why Louis was so calm all day. “Legend.” 

Harry’s stuck between wanting to laugh a bit and wanting to yell a bit, when against his leg his phone buzzes. 

**Louis:** _ Rematch?  _

His text leaves Harry confused. A rematch would be fine, even though Harry knows he’d lose instantly, but Louis’ gone and deleted his profile. A rematch would be fine… were it possible. 

Harry’s phone buzzes again, in his hand this time, and it’s a picture. Harry clicks for it to load and nearly drops his phone when it does. 

On his screen is a picture of Louis, naked from the waist down. His shirt is raised, and while his cock is resting there, hard and waiting, what really captures Harry’s attention is the slightly yellowed bruise on Louis’ hipbone. It’s not too big, and doesn’t look too painful, but it’s a mark Harry left, and Louis’ showing it off. 

It only takes a couple of clicks for Harry to delete his profile, and then he’s closing his laptop. Nothing on Earth could ever hold his attention more than his Louis. 

“It’s been fun, lads,” Harry laughs, sliding his laptop under his door. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he’s skipping down the stairs. 

↠↞

It takes awhile for Harry to convince Louis to make it official, but when he does, it’s fantastic. Louis’ a bit competitive, he didn’t lie about that, but Harry knows how to bring him down from his aggressive edge. 

They don’t play any more games together, though. It’s not because it’s a bad idea, or because it was a conscious decision - they just have better things to do with their time than sit around on a computer. Better things like not doing their homework and instead lazily making out on Harry’s bed as a movie plays unwatched in the background. 

That’s what they’re doing when Niall comes barging into the room, laptop resting in the crook of his arm and an excited grin playing on his face. “Harry, we’re all in the hallway, you’ve got to join us.” He’s looking at his screen, not paying any mind to the fact that Harry’s hovering over Louis, left hand holding the back of his neck. 

Harry can see that he’s got a game up and loaded, and he’s completely uninterested. “I’m in the middle - ” 

“You’re not going to want to miss this,” Niall insists. His laptop is sitting securely in his arms, and he keeps glancing back at it throughout their conversation. He’s clearly too invested in it, and it makes Harry not want to play, not when he knows how angry Niall can get. “It’s like Fortnite, but you can be a Pixar character and your only weapons are candy bars, it’s insane.”  

Harry turns back to Louis, only to see him already looking at Harry, eyebrows raised, mouth tense, looking entirely unimpressed. 

“I’ve got to say no,” Harry eventually says. Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Mate, you were the  _ only _ one to beat The Rogue,” Niall pleads. “You’ve got to join us.” 

Harry smirks down at Louis. “ _ Well _ \- ”

“Now hold on, Niall.” Louis rolls out from under Niall, and sits at the edge of the bed. Harry pushes himself back and turns so he’s sitting next to his boyfriend. “Didn’t The Rogue beat Harry the very next day? And brutally, I might add.” 

“Sure, but - ”

“Right,” Louis nods. Not even looking at Harry, he continues, “So Harry probably just had some dumb luck.” 

“ _ Dumb luck _ ?!” Harry stands up then, turning to face his boyfriend. As he does, he takes notice of Niall rolling his eyes and leaving, shutting the door on his way out of the the room. “I’ll have you know that was all skill.”

Louis sighs, crossing his arms. “You have no skill, love. You’re actually quite terrible.” 

“I was the  _ only _ person to ever beat you.” He doesn’t say that it could’ve been anybody, that they almost had Shawn sit outside of the base, but let Harry do it, only because it was his idea. 

“You hid out until I was weak and thought I was alone,” Louis tells him. 

While Harry’s feeling a bit indignant at Louis’ disregard for his only win in the game, Louis appears completely calm. Harry can see right through him though, can see that his competitive edge is slowly making its way out. “Exactly,” he says. “ _ Strategy _ .” 

“Haz, one moment of luck doesn’t make you a good player.” Louis’ shoulders are tensing, and Harry can tell he’s only serving to work him up. He puts a smile on his face. “You’re quite honestly the worst player in the house.” 

“I’m better than you!” 

It’s not true. He’s not better than Louis -  _ nobody _ is better than Louis - but seeing Louis’ jaw drop, his eyebrows furrow in shock and upset’ is giving Harry a feeling of absolute giddiness. “Do you  _ hear _ yourself?”

Harry’s grinning, and Louis is staring at him in frustration, both of their eyes holding a challenge. Before either of them can blink, they’re both racing for their computers. Harry knows he’s not going to win, but it’s never been about the game - it’s about the people he’s playing with. 

And he might have a bit of a thing for Louis beating him into the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sapphicbee) | [Tumblr](http://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com)
> 
>  [Here's a rebloggable post](http://aceniall.tumblr.com/post/179641031123/symptoms-of-the-culture-14k-pairing)


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